THE SONG THAT SMILES THROUGH THE HEARTACHE
The crowd came expecting tears — the kind of quiet ache that Patty Loveless delivers better than anyone. But when the first bright, playful chords of “I Try to Think About Elvis” rang out, something changed. The tension broke, the room lifted, and suddenly everyone was grinning. Patty had decided that tonight, instead of crying over love lost, she’d dance through it.
Wearing that familiar half-smile that says she knows more than she lets on, Patty launched into the song with the kind of energy that only comes from hard-earned joy. Her voice — warm, agile, and unmistakably Appalachian — shimmered with humor and defiance. The crowd clapped along, laughing as she sang about trying to forget heartbreak by thinking about anything else — Elvis, shoes, the weather, or the President — anything to keep from thinking about him.
It’s one of those songs that sneaks up on you. Beneath the fun and rhythm lies a truth every heart understands: the way we sometimes hide our pain behind a joke, the way laughter can become a lifeline. Patty’s performance made that truth shine. She didn’t sing like a woman escaping heartbreak — she sang like someone surviving it with style.
Behind every playful word, you could hear the echo of real experience — a tenderness that made the humor feel earned. Her voice danced from light to shadow, joy to ache, always balancing between the two. In one breath, she made the crowd laugh; in the next, she made them feel the sting of memory.
By the bridge, the entire room was alive — hands clapping, feet tapping, faces lit with that rare mix of happiness and nostalgia. And as the final note rang out, the applause came like a wave. Some laughed. Some cried. Most did both.
Because that’s what Patty Loveless does best — she turns the mess of emotion into melody, the ache of love into something you can move to. “I Try to Think About Elvis” isn’t just clever — it’s cathartic. It reminds us that heartache doesn’t always have to sound like sorrow. Sometimes, it can sound like a smile.
As the crowd rose to its feet, Patty tipped her head, that familiar sparkle still in her eyes. “You can laugh or you can cry,” she said with a grin. “I just like to sing about both.”
And in that moment, the truth was clear — this wasn’t just a song about forgetting someone. It was about remembering yourself, about finding joy in the wreckage, and proving once again that in country music, as in life, a good laugh can heal almost anything.